


You are my sweetest downfall

by azorica



Category: Rush (2013)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-12 00:32:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1179780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azorica/pseuds/azorica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My first fic on this fandom, the first time I write anything since 2009 so... Yeah.<br/>Title from "Samson" by Regina Spektor, because since The Flirt Meister wrote an amazing fic based on that song I can't stop listening to it. And I can't stop feeling *all* the Niki-James feels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You are my sweetest downfall

Niki didn’t understand it. He looked up at calm, sweet, blue eyes. Sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands were awkwardly laid on his lap. He looked down at the blue carpet. He felt dizzy, numb, confused. He wondered... Had James cheated on him? Was it something he said? Something he done wrong? Could it be his strange personality, the direct honesty of his words, his sharp accent? Was it the way the scars covered his ratty face, was it the arrogance in his voice when they first met, was it the jokes about James being a terrible driver, was it all the complaints about the coffee that was never strong enough?

The Austrian looked up at the figure that was no longer standing right in front of him, but leaning against the nearest wall. It wasn’t the arrogant bad boy, Greek God, _immortal fuck_ James Hunt he once met, so many years before that day. It was James. _His_ James. The James who’d insist on taking him to the movies on Monday nights, when no one was there to bother them, who spent weekends with him in bed, kissing him and touching him, making him feel things he never knew he could feel, who drank mint tea every single night before bed, who was a disaster in the kitchen but never gave up, who refused to wear shoes when it wasn't absolutely necessary, who called him “dear” and “darling”, who had counted every freckle of his body, who had kissed every bit of his skin. Who had kissed his scars when he couldn't look at himself in the mirror. Who had given him the strenght and the motive to get back in the car. James, the one who sat with him for hours, one night, when a storm came and the rain wouldn't stop, and Niki couldn't breathe because the rain was like fire and fire had taken too much from him, too much _of_ him.

“I don’t understand” – Niki finally said, his voice small, his throat dry.

“I’m so sorry, dear” – James whispered, running his hand through the blonde hair, the sunlight soft, coming from the window behind him.

James felt his heart heavy, but there was no taking it back. So many night wide awake, thinking about this day, asking himself over and over if this was how he really felt, if this was something we wanted to do. He never meant to hurt Niki, but he couldn't keep this lie anymore. It wasn't fair.

After a few minutes of silence, James moved. Niki watched, eyes filled with tears, as the tall figure approached the door and opened it. There was nothing he could say.

“I’m so sorry” James repeated. “I just don’t love you anymore”.

He closed the door behind him and walked away.


End file.
